Hello
by SpyKid18
Summary: Set in "Blair Waldorf Must Pie". What if Serena had not answered her phone when Blair called from the bathroom? Desperate, Blair makes an unusual call. C/B


**A/N: This is just a bit of a one-shot that I thought up while rewatching Season One. And as usual- my mind went off into "what-if" Chair land. Luckilly, I returned and was able to write this, haha. Enjoy!**

Hello

The faucet was still running. The sound of the water splashing against the porcelain wash bin was a constant reminder of the complete failure she had become yet she could not turn it off until she removed every trace of what had happened from her fingers. She scrubbed her hands like Lady Macbeth, fat tears rolling down her cheeks like raindrops on a window and her windowsill was a chin that trembled uncomfortably as she struggled to keep it together.

She had lost control but she would not now. She would not sob and make more of a spectacle for herself to look at in the mirror. Already her mascara had run and she would not let her face contort into what she had always characterized as an ugly cry.

The water was hot and her fingers were raw. Still they were not clean enough. They were not clean because she could still remember pushing that one deliberately into her mouth and reaching farther until she felt the familiar turn of her stomach unclench and everything aligned.

Except things weren't aligned. They were for that moment but then the gravity of what she had done settled and she saw just how disordered her life had become from one thirty second action.

She closed off the faucet and found the silence unbearable. She sank to the floor, grabbing her cellphone off the counter on the way down. She scrolled down to the familiar number and felt her trembling worsen when Serena's chipper voice told her to leave a message. What was she supposed to say? How could she put all she was feeling, all she had done, into a simple voice message? She clicked off of the call and leaned her head heavily against the wall. She needed Serena. She needed the one person who knew her better than herself to be with her and talk her down from this ledge that she had no way of getting down from. She scrolled through the numbers again and paused when she saw Chuck Bass' name highlighted.

She didn't understand why she pressed dial or why she thought that perhaps out of everyone in her phone minus Serena he could help her the most. He answered on the third ring with, "Waldorf, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Are you doing anything?"

"Cleaning up after yet another failed holiday," he said. "So, basically nothing. Why?"

"Can..," she paused for a moment, feeling that she was taking a step she could not take back by continuing. "Blair," he pressed and she finally said, "I need you to come here."

A pause and then, "Where are you?"

"I'm home. Just..come here, please, and Dorota will…"

"I'm coming."

The line clicked off.

CHAIR-CHAIR-CHAIR

It took him less time to come than she expected but she kept herself busy while waiting by counting the lines on the tile to keep from crying. She got up to 87 when the door opened and she was met by Chuck in a surprisingly muted suit. He kneeled next to her while she avoided his eye. He shouldn't see her like this. He had never seen her weak. He had seen her ripped apart by Nate but in those cases she reserved some dignity. Ripped by her own hand, she had not one shred of dignity to cling to.

"How many times?" he asked without prompting. His question sent a chill down her spine and she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Blair. I'm not an idiot. How many times?"

She didn't answer because she was truly surprised that he knew what she had done. That meant he must have known all along and she had always thought Serena was the only one who knew. She had been the only one who had talked to her about it and sometimes seemed like the only one who cared. Chuck had never been one to reach out, though. Not until now when he was on his feet and finding her toothbrush as she told him, "Only once."

He found the toothbrush and toothpaste and handed it to her. "Brush your teeth."

She realized it was the one thing she had forgotten to do as she waited for him and she dutifully squeezed a bit of toothpaste onto the brush and scrubbed her teeth clean while Chuck filled a glass with water. She took it from him and sipped, swished, and spit. Without a word he took it all and put it back in its proper place. She returned her attention to her hands as he sank next to her on the floor. She wanted him to talk first. She didn't want to explain herself but knew that he deserved that.

"You don't have to tell me why," he said after a moment and she let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. "But you can't do this anymore."

"I know," she said, feeling childish as she lolled her head up and down. "I'm sorry."

He nodded and she drew her legs into her chest, not caring as her dress fell to her hips. She hadn't planned on telling him anything. She knew it was therapeutic to talk about triggers but him being there was honestly enough. Still she found herself revealing, "My dad didn't come to dinner. My mom uninvited him."

Chuck knew the importance of this and said, "I thought old Bart was bad."

"It's our holiday," she said. "We would make a pumpkin pie and eat it together. Now, there's nothing. My mom is down there catering to all these guests she barely knows. The one person there who actually shares her blood and she dismisses me. I have no one."

"That's not true," Chuck said, turning his head toward her. "I'm here, aren't I? Even if I am second rate help."

"Chuck," she said softly, shaking her head.

"What? You think I don't know that you called Serena first?"

"She didn't answer," Blair conceded.

"You have people Blair, people who care about you, whether you realize it or not."

Blair glanced over at him and her breath hitched when she saw exactly what she heard in his voice reflected in his eyes. She pursed her lips to keep them from trembling and silently laid a hand on his knee.

"Do you want to go back out there?"

She shook her head.

"I'll go with you."

She took the invitation and weighed it in her mind. The thought of going back to that table and sitting beside her mother made her stomach curl and her fingers itch. But the material of Chuck's slacks beneath her fingertips emboldened her and she took a moment before nodding her head and answering, "Okay."

He took her hand from his knee and held it as he stood. He pulled her up gently and for a moment they stood in front of each other without a word. He went to speak when she pressed her body to his, her arms winding around his waist. The closeness reminded him of the limo but the comparison ended there. Her body against his felt less rushed, less stolen. In that moment, holding her in her bathroom he almost felt that she was his.

"Thank you," she whispered before pulling away.

Together they left the bathroom and made their way back to the dining room. Eleanor looked mildly surprised when she saw them and elegantly said, "Well, hello Chuck. When did you get here?"

"Not too long ago. Blair knows that Bass holidays are not the finest so she told me to come here."

Eleanor shrugged with a societal grin. "The more the merrier, right? Blair, you look pale, dear."

Blair bristled at her mother's words and said, "I'm fine, mother."

She felt Chuck's eyes on her and slowly she regained a normal semblance of breathing. She sat beside her mother and Chuck took the seat directly to her left. Plates were placed in front of them and the cloying sweetness of the pastry made her stomach churn. Impulsively she reached beneath the table for his hand and found it immediately. It was as if he was waiting.

"Blair, have some," her mother urged, gesturing toward the pastry. "Don't just let it sit there."

Blair felt frustration pull at her mouth because her mother knew what she had struggled with and she should have known that Daddy not coming would be a trigger and she should have been able to see something was off when she returned. She should have noticed her daughter was in pain. Instead all she noticed was the untouched pastry. It was all wrong, twisted. She went to speak when Chuck's hand appeared above her plate and plucked the pastry from her plate.

"Why let it go to waste?" he asked lightly as she saw that his plate was empty. He took a bite and she saw a bit of cherry filling ooze out the side and it was in that moment when she saw Chuck Bass eating a cherry pastry that she knew for a fact he could not stand that she began to fall.

"Well," Eleanor breathed out. "At least someone is eating it."

Eleanor turned away and Blair leaned toward Chuck and said, "You hate cherry anything."

"One for the team," he answered smoothly.

His grin was boyish, nothing like the smarmy Chuck Bass she had known. She swallowed hard and felt the smoothness of his hand against hers beneath the table. Yes, she had definitely begun to fall.

**A/N: So, today is my 20th birthday. And I would LOVE if you could leave me some feedback on this! Seriously, it would make toady even more special. So..with that extra incentive-PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK. I'll send ya some birthday cake :-D**


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